interested.”
I can’t remember the last time I felt speechless, but there are so many thoughts running through my mind—questions, doubts, excitement—that I’m not sure where to start. “But… how?”
Faye’s smile grows. “Do you remember that footage I took of you and Maggie a couple weeks ago?”
I think back to the day Maggie moved in and I put her on the spot to help me cook. “Yes.”
“Well, turns out that was all the network needed to see to give the go-ahead. We’re approved for one season. My pitch to them was that we will focus on the heart of the kitchen and all it stands for. Farm to table, the charities you support, Seattle life. You’ll have final say in the content that gets produced. Since your brand is involved, we want to make sure you agree on how it’s represented.”
“Faye, I’m—”
She cringes like she’s afraid of my answer. “Ecstatic? Pumped?” she tries.
“I’m impressed, and relieved, and so damn happy.” I let out a laugh, feeling a little bit lighter than I did a minute ago. What felt so stressful just five days ago, now feels like a dream.
Faye presses her hands together and pops up onto her toes in the most un-like Faye pose I’ve ever seen her in. I can practically feel her excitement radiating from her entire body.
“So you’re in? Maggie’s in? We’re doing this?”
I nod, letting the smile push up my cheeks. “If Maggie’s still in, then so am I.”
Maggie
A crack sounds as the cue ball smashes into the top of the pyramid, creating a burst of color as the rest of the balls scatter everywhere. None of them land in a pocket.
“Gah,” Monica growls before walking over to her beer. “I’m usually better than this.”
I smirk at her and proudly step forward with my pool stick. “That was before you played me. One to zero, sister.”
Monica kicks her foot out and taps me on the ass with it. “Less talking. More playing.”
Chuckling, I lean over and set up my shot. “Five ball, corner pocket.” I lock in my aim and tap the cue ball perfectly. The five ball sinks and I shoot my sister a cocky wink over my shoulder. “Guess that makes me solids.”
Monica just laughs and rolls her eyes. “You’re still annoying when you win, you know that?”
After making a couple more balls, I end up missing one. I walk toward the table we’re sharing and grab my vodka soda. “I was thinking,” I start before Monica walks off toward the pool table. “What if we host a Friendsgiving at the kitchen? Zach’s mom and brother will be in town. We can invite some of your friends like Chloe and Gavin.” I swallow before attempting my next suggestion. “And … maybe Dad’s family too.”
Monica blinks a few times and then nods. “I love that idea, Mags. But are you sure? I know you and Dad are talking now, but I haven’t even met his wife and kids. It could make for a super awkward Thanksgiving.”
I nod. “I know, which is why we’re doing a Friendsgiving. Besides, when is it not going to be awkward, you know? Desmond could use all the family he can get right now. And I’m starting to think ripping the bandage off might just be the best thing.”
Monica smiles. “I’m in. I’ll buy the chips and dips.”
I laugh at her blatant attempt to get out of cooking. While Monica is much more efficient in the kitchen than I, it’s still not her favorite thing in the world to do. “Nope. You’re preparing with me.”
“What? You’re dating a freaking chef.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want him doing all the heavy lifting this year. I’m going to let him enjoy the festivities while you and I cook.”
She twists up her face and lets out a groan. “Fine. But only because you let me drag you to all of those classes.”
Monica approaches the pool table to take her shot and my eyes wander to the entrance just in time. Desmond’s walking through the door with a big smile and more energy I’ve seen him carry all week. My heart starts to thrum faster in my chest. Faye’s news must have been good, but I’ll need to hear it to believe it. “Well?”
He stops in front of me and lifts my body so that my feet are off the ground and my face is parallel to his. “We got the show.”
Just seeing and hearing his excitement puts a full-blown smile on my face. I squeal